


Answer

by imagineteamfreewill



Series: The Switch [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineteamfreewill/pseuds/imagineteamfreewill
Summary: The reader’s world gets turned upside down once more when an old friend reveals something she’d hoped to keep a secret for much, much longer.
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You, reader x sam - Relationship
Series: The Switch [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1339267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Answer

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr account of the same name on January 5th, 2019.

You could hear quiet voices speaking in the kitchen as you left your bedroom and though you hadn’t eaten much in two days, all you wanted to do was go back to bed and hide. You couldn’t face Sam and Dean after they’d caught you doing the spell, especially since both you and Dean knew that you’d put Sam in danger. You couldn’t imagine how he would react if he found out that his soul had been involved in the spell because you were soulmates. No doubt he’d already done some research on it.

_He probably already knows,_ you thought as you stared at the door, silently debating whether or not it would be worth it to sate your growling stomach.

After a long internal debate, you forced yourself to get dressed. The hallway was still empty by the time you left your room, and you weren’t surprised to see Sam and Dean standing by the kitchen counter, each with cups of coffee in their hands. The sight of Cas standing alongside them, however, made your heart stop for a brief moment. Your mouth fell open and tears filled your eyes as they all turned to look at you.

“Cas?” you whispered, closing your mouth and swallowing thickly. “You’re here? You’re alive?”

Cas gave you a gentle smile and moved past the Winchesters to get to you, accepting your hug with open arms.

“How? How are you alive? I— We—” You were crying for the second time that day, but this time you weren’t alone. Cas was comforting you just as he had when you’d first been rescued and despite the tears, a smile graced your face as you let him embrace you.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, his voice soft and low. You closed your eyes, marvelling at the sound of it. You’d thought you’d never hear your best friend’s voice again. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Once you’d finally stopped crying and Cas released you, you stepped away and wiped your eyes and nose on the back of your sleeve. “Did you two do something?” you asked, unable to stop smiling as you looked between Sam and Dean. They shook their heads. Both of them were smiling as well, happy that you and Cas had finally been reunited. They’d clearly caught on to how much he meant to you.

“Then how? I mean, you were— You were really dead, Cas!”

“We don’t know,” Dean answered. His smile faded as he set his mug down behind him and then lounged against the counter, his arms crossed in front of him and with one ankle crossed over the other. “Cas walked in here while we were eating breakfast. Scared the hell out of us, too.”

Sam chuckled, glancing at his brother. “Dean tried to shoot him.”

“I slept through all of that?” Both boys nodded and you ran a hand through your hair, smiling at Cas and shaking your head. “Man, I’m getting lazy.”

Cas grinned and put a hand on your shoulder, looking between you and the Winchesters. “I don’t think lazy is quite the right word for it, Y/N.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “It’s good to see you out here. I was worried I would have to come get you, but I wasn’t sure how to do it without having you think I wasn’t myself. Sam and Dean said that you haven’t been out of your room very much lately.” His eyebrows creased down as he looked at you with concern, fully knowing how you’d reacted to his death.

That sobered you up and you looked away, knowing that they’d probably mentioned the spell you’d tried to cast. “Yeah, well, I’m not too good with people dying.”

“Nobody is,” Sam murmured, and you looked up at him. His words seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place them in any conversation the two of you had had.

“Déjà vu.”

Sam’s lips quirked up in a tiny smile and you wondered if he felt the same about it too. “Something like that.”

Dean looked between the two of you, then glanced at Cas before asking, “Did I miss something here?”

Sam’s eyes were still focused on you as he answered, “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

Finally, you couldn’t take everyone’s eyes on you any longer—especially Sam’s—so you cleared your throat and stepped over to the coffee maker, grabbing a mug for yourself. You filled it up to the brim and took a sip, humming happily before you realized that everyone was still staring at you. Heat rose in your cheeks and you shifted nervously under their gazes.

“What? Can’t a girl have her morning coffee?”

“Of course,” Cas said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

The spell was broken and all three men looked away. You heaved an internal, relieved sigh, then moved to sit at the table and watch as they went about their business again. Dean stepped back to his normal spot at the sink, starting to wash each dish by hand as Sam and Cas continued to discuss what had happened. Apparently, Cas had been ambushed by a particularly angry group of witches during a routine check-in on a safehouse that the boys kept. They’d warded the cabin with advanced sigils and spells—ones that Cas couldn’t sense or see until he was already inside. By then it was too late. He’d barely made it out alive, and he’d had to use the very last of his grace to get himself back to the bunker. Thankfully, Cas’ grace had recharged since he’d woken up in the bedroom only hours before. It was charging faster, too, he noted. You and the Winchesters took that news with joy, but also with a grain of salt. Miracles like resurrection rarely, if ever, came with returned strengths. Just because Cas was more able to help them didn’t mean that someone, somewhere paid an awful price to give him that.

Even as the boys moved on to discussing possibilities for how Cas had been resurrected, nobody mentioned the spell you’d tried to cast, and you soon found yourself wondering if the boys had said anything about it to him at all. Surely they would have, considering the fact that Sam had been affected by it as well.

“I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” you said after a long while, standing as you set your now-empty mug on the kitchen table.

“Nuh-uh,” Dean scolded, shaking his head when you started to leave the table. He pointed at your mug, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t leave your dirty dishes out like that. I’m not about to play fetch with it. I’m not a maid.”

You sniggered and brought it over to him. “Yes, Mom,” you teased. Dean grumbled in response, taking it from you and putting into the sudsy water. You grinned wide at him and began to leave.

On your way out of the kitchen, Sam managed to catch your eye. He smiled fondly at you, unaware of Cas’ eyes on the both of you. A little confused, you smiled back at him and continued on your way, wondering what you’d done to deserve that kind of smile. He’d only given it to you in the dreams that you shared.

_Does he remember them? He hasn’t said anything about them…_

“Y/N, can I speak with you?”

You jumped, startled, and whirled around to find Cas standing the hallway just beyond the kitchen door. Frowning, you nodded and watched as he walked to where you were standing, his footfalls almost silent.

“What did you do?” he asked, his voice just as quiet, as if he didn’t want the boys to hear. “I felt you doing something here when I was in the Empty—I could feel your soul calling out for me.”

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t do anything, Cas, at least not anything successful. I promise!”

Cas stared at you a moment longer before glancing over his shoulder at the kitcher. Neither Sam nor Dean had come after him and he turned back to look at you once more.

“What do you mean, _at least not anything successful?”_

You scanned the doorway as well, searching for signs of the brothers before shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here and I’m not the one who brought you back, Cas. I’m not the one who paid whatever price it was. Sam and Dean would have told you if I had.”

Starting to walk away, you turned your back on him and took a step, only to be stopped when his hand closed around your wrist. “Y/N, whatever you did, it disrupted both you and Sam.”

_So he does know what happened, or at least the consequences of it._

“What did he say?” you asked, turning around just enough for you to see his face. When he didn’t answer right away, you repeated yourself, this time more frantic. “What did Sam tell you?”

“He didn’t have to say anything for me to know. I felt both your soul and his, and that shouldn’t have happened. So tell me, _what did you do?”_

Cas’ voice was low and threatening, and his grip on your wrist tightened. He was interrogating you, almost as if you were a monster. You could feel his eyes burning into yours and you swallowed hard, glancing up at the kitchen doorway again just in time to see Sam come out. He looked down the hall and met your eyes, a frown punctuating the clean lines of his face.

“Cas? Y/N? What’s going on?” he asked, worry thick in his voice.

Cas stared at you a second longer before releasing your wrist. You immediately pulled it against yourself, your other hand moving to rub at the skin there.

“Nothing,” you told Sam after a moment. “We were just talking.”

“Really? Because it looked like—”

“Y/N was going to tell me what she was doing when she attempted to sacrifice her soul, as well as your own,” Cas growled.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Sam’s gaze move to you. Slowly, you looked up and met his eyes again. “I— I didn’t mean to, Sam. Really.”

Sam was silent for a moment, his eyes fixated on you, until finally he looked back at Cas’ angry face. “Cas, I saw the spell myself. It wasn’t supposed to sacrifice two peoples’ souls. Y/N was only supposed to be giving up part of her own, but we stopped her in time. Nothing happened.”

“It wasn’t the spell that was the problem,” Cas replied. “It was Y/N. She didn’t think.”

“Now hold on a second, Cas,” Sam started to say, just as Dean stepped out of the kitchen to see what was going on, a plate of food in one hand and silverware in the other. “You can’t really blame all this on Y/N. She was grieving and we still don’t know what caused it. It could’ve been anything from Latin pronunciations to a mistake in the book, even—”

“You didn’t think,” Cas scolded, cutting off Sam’s defense. You flinched at the anger in his words and took a step away from him. “You could’ve seriously hurt him!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Cas interrupted you, his words coming out in a growl, “You didn’t think that giving up a part of your soul would hurt your _soulmate?_ You didn’t think that sacrificing part of the connection between the two of you would hurt him as well?”

The hallway fell quiet as tears burned in your eyes. Finally, Sam spoke up.

“Cas, are you… Are you saying that Y/N and I are soulmates?”

He didn’t answer and Sam looked to you for an explanation, but you could only look away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

_He wasn’t supposed to find out like this,_ you thought as you tried to form some kind of logical reason, or at least a lie, for why you hadn’t said anything. _He wasn’t supposed to find out at all._

“Dean?” Sam questioned, turning to face his brother, who was still standing down the hall. “Did you know about this?”

Dean cleared his throat and you glanced up just enough to watch him shift uncomfortably. He met your eyes for a split-second and you quickly looked away, only shifting your gaze back to him as he responded, “I didn’t know about the thing with the spell, but…”

“So everyone knew about this except me?” Nobody answered. “How long have you known, Y/N?” You didn’t say anything and Sam repeated himself, his voice growing angrier and more desperate by the second.

“Since I got here,” you told him, your voice wobbling. “Sam, I’m—”

“Don’t.”

You stood in silence as Sam walked away, disappearing around the corner. Cas disappeared as well, the sound of his wings coming just as you turned to look at him once more. Slowly, you looked up at Dean.

“You didn’t eat,” he said after a second. He held up the plate in his hand and you gave him a tiny, barely existent smile.

“I’m not hungry. Not anymore.” Dean nodded in response. “It’s probably best that I go to my room, huh?” He nodded again and you let out a shaky sigh, turning to go.

“He’ll come around,” Dean called after you. “Just give him some time to cool off.”

“You really think that?” you questioned, glancing at him over your shoulder. “We’ve been lying to him for a long time, Dean, about something really important. Would you be mad if someone kept something like this from you?”

Dean didn’t say anything, choosing instead to go back to the kitchen. You heard the garbage disposal run a second later and your stomach growled at the thought of your food going to waste. The fridge door squeaked opened, the light spilling out into the hall. The sound of beer bottles clinking together followed and you closed your eyes, keeping them shut for a long moment before pulling yourself together and going into your room, shutting the door behind you.

* * *

You didn’t dare venture out of your room for the rest of the day. Breakfast had been non-existent, but there was still a half-eaten bag of pretzels in your nightstand, so you fed off those and tried to focus on typing up your memories of old family vacations until, ultimately, you couldn’t take your hunger—or your need to pee—any longer.

It was three in the morning when you finally slipped out the bedroom door and glanced down the hall. Finding it empty, you headed to the bathroom first, then to the kitchen. You were relieved to find it void of any people as well; and, assuming that both brothers were in their rooms and Castiel was elsewhere, you gathered up your cereal and made your way to the library. Much to your dismay, it was not empty, unlike the rest of the bunker.

“Y/N, wait,” Cas said, standing from his chair when you moved to leave only moments after entering. You stopped and eyed him warily, your eyes sliding over to look at Sam and Dean, who were sitting on the opposite side of the table, tumblers of whiskey in their hands. Dean looked up and met your eyes, giving you a small smile, but Sam looked pointedly at the glass in front of him.

Anxiety rose up in you, but you stepped back into the library anyway, ignoring it when the milk sloshed over the edge of your cereal bowl as you walked. It was cold against your hand and you glanced down at it, watching it drip onto the dark hardwood beneath you.

“I should, um, go get a napkin…” You reached forward and set the bowl on the edge of the table, turning to leave once more.

“We need to talk,” Sam said, and you froze in place, unsure. “Forget about the milk for now.”

All three men were staring at you now—you could feel their eyes boring into the back of your skull—and you slowly wiped the spilled milk off your hand and onto your jeans before turning around. The floor creaked beneath you, showing a rare sign of the bunkers age.

“Have a seat?” Dean offered.

You shook your head. “I want to stand.”

Sam sighed from his seat and you silently watched him take a long drink of his whiskey. It was empty when he set it down and all four of you were quiet as he refilled it more than halfway.

“Easy there, tiger,” Dean cautioned, and Sam scoffed a little at that, causing him to sigh and rub his forehead with one hand. “Clearly we’re all tense about what happened earlier.”

_“Clearly.”_

Dean scowled at his brother and you rubbed the side of your arm with your hand, unsure of if you should say anything. Before you could, however, Cas leaned forward in his seat and said,

“Sam, you and Y/N _are_ soulmates. There is no doubt about that. Your relationship with her was determined before I was even formed. That’s why your soul was affected when she tried to resurrect me, and that’s how we were able to track you down.”

“Yeah,” Sam retorted, his lips pursed in anger as he turned his tumbler around and around with one hand. “I got that. What I _don’t_ get is why all three of you knew,” he gestured between you, Dean, and Cas with one finger, “and didn’t tell me. It’s _my_ life. She’s _my_ soulmate. I figure that you of all people should have told me.”

His eyes were fixed on you when you finally tore your eyes away from Cas and you quickly looked away, wanting more than anything to be the center of his attention.

“I— I did tell you. I just… I don’t think you remember.” You fiddled with your fingers, then the hem of your old t-shirt, looking anywhere but at Sam. “We’ve… shared some dreams.”

“How’d you manage that?” Dean asked.

You looked over at him, trying not to look at Sam all the while, despite the fact that he was only inches away from his brother. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I think it’s the soulmate thing. The first time was when Sam was taken by those vamps and I was knocked out after Cas touched my soul.” You fidgeted uneasily, knowing that Sam was watching you intently. He’d never heard how you’d tracked him down and you were sure he was soaking in all this new information like a sponge. “The second was the night Cas died, when Sam… when Sam slept in my room.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that and glanced over at his brother. “You slept with her?”

“Not in the way you think,” Sam dismissed.

A pang of hurt when through your heart at his words. It sounded like he was trying to discount the relationship between the two of you, as if it were nothing at all. Granted, it wasn’t much of a relationship to start with if you were only going on what had happened between the two of you in the waking world, but at least you had _something._

“We, um, in the first dream we shared, I told you that we were soulmates,” you offered after a minute, hoping that they wouldn’t ask what else had happened. You didn’t think you could bear to admit in front of Dean and Castiel that you loved Sam. You certainly hadn’t acted like it, and it would probably get you in more hot water right now than anything.

“I don’t remember that at all,” Sam replied, crossing his arms over his chest, one hand still holding his cup. He was staring at you again and you shoved your hands in your back pockets, pulling your own arms close to yourself and trying to make yourself to seem as non-argumentative as possible. You didn’t want to deal with this. You didn’t feel like fighting, not when you were so tired of bad things happening and all you wanted to do was celebrate Cas’ miraculous return.

You sighed. “I don’t know why. I can’t explain any of it. I just… Can we talk about something else? Please?”

Dean spoke up immediately, gratefully changing the subject to something he was working on for one of the cars in the garage, and relief filled you until Sam set his glass down. The glass hit the wood with a sound akin to a gunshot and you flinched. Both Dean and Cas’ heads whipped around to look at the younger man, surprised at his sudden outburst. It wasn’t like Sam to dwell on something like this, not when logical explanations had been given.

“No one has explained to me why they didn’t tell anyone about Y/N being my soulmate. I deserve an answer!”

_Maybe not every logical explanation was given, _you thought as you watched Dean reach for his brother’s glass.

“Okay, that’s enough, Yosemite,” he sighed.

Sam jerked it away from him, anger and irritation simmering in his eyes. “Somebody answer me!”

Dean and Cas didn’t know what to say, clearly, and you could tell that Sam was just going to get more and more angry if he didn’t get an explanation soon. He was drunk and you knew that. Dean knew that and Cas knew that, and nothing was going to placate him except the answer to a question that you wanted more than anything to answer.

“I don’t believe in soulmates,” you finally said. Your voice was soft, but Sam and Dean’s bickering grew quiet as Sam took in your words. “I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to believe that my fate was decided. By the time I thought that it might be true it was too late. I’m sorry, Sam.”

A few moments passed and nobody had said anything. You opened your mouth, hoping to try and convince Sam that you deserved a second chance when he began to stand, one hand resting on the table as he straightened up and focused his eyes on you. You could see now that they were puffy and rimmed with red, as if he’d been crying before you’d arrived, but you knew that that couldn’t be true. Sam wouldn’t cry about something like this.

_It’s the whiskey,_ you thought._ It has to be the whiskey._

“You should go,” Sam said.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him. “Wh— What?”

“I said, you should go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and you shook your head in disbelief. “Sam, you can’t— It’s three in the morning. You of all people know it’s not safe out there.” Almost as soon as the words left your mouth you realized you’d said the wrong thing.

Sam’s face hardened. “You’re right. It’s not. I guess you should be careful.”

Unsure of what to do, you looked at Dean and Cas for help. Both men stared at the table between them and you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. The tears in your eyes were blurring your vision by now and you quickly blinked them away before looking back at Sam, who was still staring at you with the same stoic expression on his face.

“Sam, please don’t do this… This isn’t like you. You know me. You know that I wouldn’t ever try to hurt you on purpose, please.” You were begging now, but you didn’t care.

“You should probably put on some shoes,” Sam replied. “It’s cold out.”

You exhaled shakily, shaking your head and crossing your arms in front of you, terrified of the prospects of your situation. “Please don’t do this. Cas, Dean, please tell him that he can’t kick me out.”

Neither man nor angel came to your rescue and you held back a sob. They’d betrayed you. Your closest friend and someone that you’d thought you could trust had hung you out to dry.

“You might want to make sure your gun’s got bullets, too,” Sam said as he sat back down in his seat, refilling his whiskey for the second time since you’d arrived.

“You’re not even going to defend me?” you choked out, looking at the other two for help. They didn’t reply and the library was filled with a heavy silence as you stared at the three of them in shock. They wouldn’t really kick you out, would they?

After a few minutes, you forced yourself to move your feet and you walked back to your room in silence. You shut the door behind you and stood still for a long moment, trying to process what had happened.

A sharp knock on the door behind you made you jump, and you whirled around, hurriedly opening the door in hopes that it would be Sam, telling you that he wasn’t serious or that he’d been talked out of it. Instead, it was Cas. His eyes were full of regret and your heart clenched at the sight. He wasn’t going here to tell you that you could stay.

“Please don’t let him do this,” you whispered, squeezing the fingers of one hand together together with the other in an attempt to push away your anxiety. “Cas, you won’t let him kick me out, will you?”

“I don’t have a say in this,” he replied quietly. He wouldn’t meet your eyes and you couldn’t help but feel even more lost alone than before.

_Him betraying me might actually be worse than him dying._

“But you know him, Cas! You can convince him!”

Cas shook his head sadly and looked down at his hands. It wasn’t until then that you realized that he was holding a cell phone. He held it out to you without a word and you took it.

“Both of our numbers are in there, should you ever need help.”

“Both of your numbers?” you asked, your voice shaking. “Whose—”

“Dean’s,” Cas answered. He finally met your eyes and you realized that he was crying as well.

“Please. Please don’t do this to me, Cas.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Cas looked away, focusing his attention on the lamp sitting on the nightstand behind you. “If you don’t leave here, then Sam will. He can’t defend himself as well as you can, Y/N, and it’s vital that he stays alive.”

You stood in silence, your mouth gone dry as you processed Cas’ words. Finally, you slipped the phone in the back pocket of your jeans, steeling yourself against the emotions that threatened to well up inside of you. Crying would do you no good right now.

“I guess I should start packing up my stuff, then.”

Cas nodded once, stepping back out of your doorway. “If you’re ever in danger…”

“I’ll come back,” you promised. “But only if I absolutely have to. Clearly, Sam doesn’t want me here.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. He’s angry and hurt.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you were wrong about us being soulmates. Maybe all of this is for nothing.”

He shook his head resolutely. “No. You and Sam were meant to be. Your souls are connected and they always will be,” Cas replied.

“You say that, but he feels absolutely nothing for me,” you answered. Tears brimmed your eyes again, and you swiped at them angrily, hating yourself for showing so much weakness in front of him. _I’m a hunter! I’m supposed to be strong, not someone who cries all the time!_

“And if he ever did,” you continued, remembering how Sam had told you that he’d loved you in the very first dream you’d shared, “he sure doesn’t now.”

“Y/N…”

“You’d better go let them know that I’m packing. I’d hate for Sam to have to come all the way to my room to tell me again.”

You shut the door in Cas’ face and locked it before he could say anything more. _Not that the lock will keep him out,_ you thought bitterly as you pulled out the old duffel bag you’d arrived with—the very same one that Cas had filled with the things he’d bought for you after saving your life. Packing it was easy. You didn’t have much, and what little you did have fit easily inside, with room to spare. The fabric of the bag bunched up as you slung it over your shoulder, already having put your shoes and jacket on. You fixed a hat over your head to help keep yourself warm, then checked your gun. Sam had given it to you soon after you’d arrived, after he’d found out that all your weapons had been taken from you. There were only three bullets inside and you ran a hand over your face, looking around the room. You’d have to ask them for ammunition before you left.

After resigning yourself to that thought, you twisted the doorknob to unlock the door, then tugged it open. Sam was on the other side, his hand poised to knock, and you glared up at him, trying to hide the pain you felt behind a stony expression.

“What?” you spat. “Have you come to escort me out?”

Sam stared at you in silence for a second. Just as you opened your mouth to give him another sharp retort, he said, “No. I came to ask if you’d stay, at least until it’s light out.”

“How kind of you.” You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight to one leg. “How ever can I repay you?”

He looked away, his jaw clenching. “Y/N, can you— Can you just stop? Can you stop with the tough hunter act? I don’t care if you’re angry with me or not, but you shouldn’t have done what you did. Don’t act like I’m the only one at fault here.”

“I’m not the one who’s putting someone’s life in danger.”

His jaw clenched again and you saw his shoulders grow tense. “You tried to sacrifice my soul.”

“Unknowingly,” you growled. “I tried to sacrifice _my_ soul. I didn’t know that it would hurt you. If I had, I wouldn’t have done it. You said it yourself earlier—the spell was only made to sacrifice part of _one_ person’s soul, not two. You’re acting like I’m some kind of selfish monster who only thinks about themself.”

“Maybe that’s because that’s what you did do, Y/N! All you thought about was yourself!”

You were done. “Get out of my way,” you snapped. “I’m leaving.”

“You’ll die if you go now.”

“Well then I guess you’ll have a really good day, won’t you, Sam? You wanted me gone, so I’m leaving.”

Annoyed, you shoved Sam out of your doorway and walked down the hall, moving as fast as you could. You were a few yards away when you stopped and turn to look at him.

“You know,” you sighed, and he lifted his head to look up at you from his spot by your bedroom door, “For what it’s worth, I really did love you, Sam. Part of me was even stupid enough to think that maybe we’d have a shot at happiness in this godforsaken world.”

Sam didn’t reply, nor did he follow you as you turned and continued walked through the bunker halls to the library, where Dean and Cas were waiting for you. They immediately looked towards the door, expecting to see Sam behind you. When he didn’t come, they watched you walk towards the war room with obvious confusion and concern.

“You’re leaving right now?” Dean asked, confused. You nodded, not bothering to stop and acknowledge him as you passed by. “Y/N—”

“Don’t even try and convince me to stay until morning,” you huffed. “You should try and convince your brother to be a better person first. Maybe then I’ll consider it.”

You were halfway to the staircase leading out of the bunker when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You shoved it off and moved to keep going, but they grabbed your arm and yanked on it, forcing you to face them.

“What?” you snapped.

Dean stared back at you, his grip on your arm tight to the point of bruising and anger in his eyes.

“Don’t talk about Sam that way,” he growled. “He’s better than most people will ever be.”

“Let go of me!”

“Dean, maybe you shouldn’t—” Cas began, but Dean cut him off.

“That’s enough! She clearly doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

“Not anymore, I don’t,” you spat. Dean released your arm and you immediately moved away from him, ignoring the hurt in his eyes despite the anger prevalent on the rest of his face. “Make sure to tell your brother that he can go back to hell. Maybe I’ll see him there.”

You turned on your heel and stomped up the stairs. The bunker door was heavy, but you managed to tug it open, slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying bang. Closing your eyes for a second, you tried to push away your own anger and focus yourself. Going out into the real world with only three bullets and the knife in your jacket pocket was dangerous enough, but going out when it was dark out was practically suicidal. Your anger simmered just below the surface of your thoughts, however, and you shook your head before taking the final staircase up and out of the bunker.

When you opened the door to the outside, you breathed in sharply, taking in the sights and smells of the night. It had been a long time since you’d been out of the bunker. Something far away was burning—you could smell the smoke—but above you the stars shone brightly in a clear Kansas sky. A cold wind whipped by and you shifted your bag on your shoulder, stepping forward and letting the door fall shut behind you. There was no going back now, and you stepped up out of the sunken concrete entrance and onto the road’s gravel shoulder.

“Back at it again,” you murmured to yourself, looking down the road in both directions. After a moment you turned and started walking, heading north. Before you’d arrived, you’d heard rumors about a hunter sanctuary on the border of Canada.

_If it’s true, and if I can get there within the next few days, maybe I can hide out with them instead of having to run all the time. If not…_

You shook your head, reaching back and touching your back pocket to make sure that the phone Cas had given you was still there. It was and you let out a quiet sigh of relief, your breath coming out in a soft, white puff of air.

“At least the walking will help keep me warm,” you sighed, and you picked up the pace, not sparing another glance at the bunker that was quickly disappearing behind you.


End file.
